


Woven in Sunlight

by HQ_Wingster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Study, Comfort, Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Distracted Tom Riddle, Established Relationship, Gentleness, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Tom Riddle, Relationship Study, Sharing Body Heat, Short & Sweet, Soft Harry Potter, Some Plot, Tenderness, Touch-Starved, Understanding, Vulnerability, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29099289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HQ_Wingster/pseuds/HQ_Wingster
Summary: As the afternoon crept by, it slowly began to dawn on him: that not a part of him wanted to move; fearing if he did so, he’d lose this. And while irrational in thought, there was some truth to it — Tom mused — as he traced the weight of Harry’s being, like water caressing sunlight.Encroaching him as he reads is not the sunlight from the window, neither the heat of the afternoon or theDaily Prophetas he follows; but rather, it’s a softness that even he is no stranger to. Barely glancing up from his paper, he’s soon smothered by a cuddle.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Woven in Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> Word Count Challenge → 666 (as voted by my Twitter followers)
> 
> Often when I write stories featuring cuddles or hugs, I’m portraying it from the perspective of the giver, not the receiver. But for this one, I made an exception. Partially because Tom is much easier for me to wrap my brain around and partially because on Twitter, I had a poll and the winning vote was for me to write from the point-of-view of the cuddlee. So this was something different, but not unwelcoming. I had a good time **^^**

_ “Could you do that again?”  _ Tom murmured  _ —  _ not with his voice, but with his fingers.

As he sauntered from where he was and wandered back to Harry’s heart, not before he detoured near his stubble and traced the mirth out of his partner. Until there were wheezes and there were catches of something tender he knew to be there, sprawling brightly as he was nuzzled by Harry’s nose and his laughter. Which was nice if he were honest, it was comforting if he would say it, it was precious and he wanted it, but there were still parts of him that were hesitant. As if ten years never happened and he was a stranger and Harry, too; as if this was their first time discovering how the other worked. So he slipped away and ventured down, nearly hovering at Harry’s chest: not yet touching although he wanted to, not yet meeting until he was ready. While he laid here with the  _ Daily Prophet,  _ not even reading it at the moment: just staring at a headline and waiting for the words to mean something.

Because there were arms wrapped around him and an ear beside his chest, because there were eyes now tracing him and there were hands finding purchase, and because he was a fool and a smittened one at that. About as thick as a treacle tart and about as deep as this couch could go, as Tom pivoted onto his hip so that Harry could sprawl about him  _ —  _ settling like a blanket and a furnace all at once, or as a nuisance when he shimmied to steal a glimpse from his boyfriend. Peeling the bottom of the  _ Daily Prophet  _ and would’ve succeeded if it weren’t for him. Because the taller had done something and now, the paper was like a wall: unyielding to his fingers, about as hard as a brick, yet it was soft to every turn and every cough from his boyfriend.

Because this was all an act as Tom searched for his marbles, which all had scattered at the very moment when Harry flopped here to cuddle him. And for the last three minutes or about as long as he would admit, all he wanted was to melt here  _ —  _ beneath the weight of his little lion. To feel the gravity of his affections, like how sunlight would do to water; to feel him breathing and alive and real within his arms _.  _ And just the thought of that sent him dizzy when he curled into Harry’s hair: grasping tightly, but not to hurt; merely doing it so he could breathe. So that what remained of him would unravel, so that it would part along its seams, so that Harry could come closer and Tom could hold him like he was everything.

Because by God, that was the truth and by Merlin, he meant it. All he needed was just a nudge to tip him over so he could hug him; all he wanted was a promise that he would be here when Tom reached him. And while that was silly for him to think about and even irrational from what he knew, it didn’t mean that it wasn’t there or that what he felt wasn’t real  _ —  _ the worry, the jitter, the  _ something  _ in his chest — when he tried to read the paper, reenacting before  _ this  _ happened: before Harry had come over to cuddle because he loved him. And perhaps he heard that from the fingers, now loosening from his hair, or from the heart that was next to him when Harry raised his head.

“Would you like it slow?” It was a whisper, nearly as heavy as the man himself.

Tom furrowed behind the paper, but lowered it so he could see him. “Is that a challenge, Harrison?”

“Only to you — yeah, it might be.” As he tugged at the paper and cradled Tom within his arms, Harry enveloped him until not a part of him was left stranded to his thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Tumblr](https://joeys-piano.tumblr.com/) |[ Twitter](https://twitter.com/joey_wingster)
> 
> I have a seven-chapter fic outlined and planned, and one of my goals for Februray is to write and post the first chapter to that. So that’s something to look forward to and it’s told from Harry’s POV. It’s a slow build kind of fic with endgame tomarry  **:3c**


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